The Light of My Life
by DisneyLover16
Summary: Sometimes, when lost and alone in the dark, remember that there is always one thing that is still there: hope. Oh, and Austin Moon; he's there to help out, too. Always. Sequel to Three Ghosts of Love.
1. True Pain

_**The Light of My Life**_

 _ **Chapter 1—True Pain**_

A/N: Wow, look who it is. Yes, you. I'm talking to you. Back for more? Well, I'm glad you decided to click the link. (Ah, yes, and if you're new, I recommend that you go onto my profile and read _Three Ghosts of Love_ first. This might actually be fine as a stand-alone type of story, but the previous tale will be referred to many times.) Our lovely Ally Dawson gets to have the point of view this time, and just like with Austin, things will get pretty intense, interesting, intriguing, and any other i-words you can think of. Though there are no love ghosts this time, Ally will get a few surprises of her own. Maybe they'll even shine a light to guide her along the road of life... I think you'll all enjoy it very much. ;)

* * *

Until today, I had never experienced true pain.

I thought it hurt when I broke my ankle in third grade and sobbed for hours. I thought it hurt when I watched an old childhood friend move away forever. I thought it hurt when I was told by my parents that they were getting a divorce. I thought it hurt being humiliated on live television due to a traumatizing fear of stage fright. I thought it hurt when my ex-boyfriend dropped back into my life out of the sky.

But, no—none of what I have been through would have ever prepared me for this moment. The thing was that I knew this moment was coming, but part of me hoped for a miracle, and that what was to come would never come. There were no words to precisely describe how I feel right now. All I feel is nauseous and dizzy and paralyzed and furious. All I feel is _pain_. For the first time in my life, I can actually feel what pain actually is.

Pain is nauseating, feeling sick to your stomach and resentment of anything you have eaten earlier on. Pain is dizzying, feeling that everything surrounding you is spinning and that it won't stop until you fall. Pain is paralyzing, feeling so shocked that you are unable to move a single muscle or bone in your body. Pain is infuriating, feeling that there is not a single thing to do in order to stop the causes and potential results of a situation.

Pain. The things it can do to you.

And not that breaking my ankle, watching my friend move away, having my parents tell me about the divorce, being publicly embarrassed, or having my ex-boyfriend come back wasn't nauseating, dizzying, paralyzing, or infuriating, but none of those times were even close to what I'm feeling right now. The combination of all of those feelings: that is true pain.

As I stand here, it gets harder to breathe, harder to think, harder to just...function. I can't believe this is _happening_. It can't be happening.

It just can't.

I want to say that everything is fake, an illusion. I wish that none of this is real, that nothing is real right now. I wish that everything could just disappear, that I could just disappear, even for a moment. I couldn't believe this was happening; I just couldn't.

And as I tried to continue to function, I think of anything that I could possibly do in hopes of making things better, but I can't. And that's infuriating. When I decide to sit down in the chair next to me, it hurts to move and settle down in the seat. And that's paralyzing. I try to process everything that's going on, but all my thoughts become jumbled in my mind like a puzzle with missing pieces. And that's dizzying. Through all that, I begin to regret the ice cream I decided to eat before coming here. And that's nauseating.

This is all too much to take in. I _couldn't_ do this.

I'm just weak. Cowardly. Unprepared.

Yet, how could have I ever been prepared to what I was facing right now and then what I was about to face in the next four weeks? There's no more avoiding it.

I tried to brush it aside before—the incoming pain—but now that the moment has come, everything that I pushed aside comes back to punch me right in the face. I feel numb everywhere like I _had_ been beaten into a pulp, but I hadn't been touched at all. I feel it hard to breathe, but I hadn't moved an inch from where I'm sitting. I feel it hard to function, but I'm not doing anything.

And that's just the thing. I'm not doing anything because I _can't_ do anything.

Unintentionally, a waterfall of tears begins to slide down my face. My hands form fists and my knuckles turn white. I feel my head pounding with each passing second in sync with my heated heartbeat.

"How long?" my voice croaks in a whisper.

The doctor replies almost nonchalantly, "Four weeks, Ms. Dawson. It may not seem like a lot of time, but at least it's time."

Four weeks. That's all he had left. This is it. The last four weeks of his life. In four weeks, it's going to be all over.

When I don't say anything, the doctor continues, "I'm sorry for your loss." _Lies._ He probably says that every day. "I'll give you a moment with him."

I watch the doctor in all his white lab coat glory walk out of the hospital room leave me alone with him. At first, I don't do anything. I can only feel the luminescent glow of the ceiling lights and the slow, but normal beep of the heart rate monitor. All else is still and silent almost like time has stopped for these few peaceful moments.

Then, I take his hand in mine, and say, "Dad?"

Of course, he doesn't answer. He's still only asleep.

"Dad," I repeat, pushing a lock of brown hair behind my ear. "I know you're still asleep, but I'm going to be here. I'm always going to be here." I stand up and look down at him.

I sniffle a few times. "I know that soon you're not going to be around anymore. That's why I'm going to make sure I'm here these last four weeks with you. I love you, Dad."

I squeeze his hand before letting go of it. For another eternity, I just stand and watch him. Watch my father continue to die of leukemia right before my eyes.

I have known for a long time about the cancer, but when I found out—when he found out that he had cancer, it was too late. The inevitable was going to happen. The grains of sand in his hourglass were falling through too quickly, and no barrier could be put through to stop the flow from continuing.

I hate knowing that all I could do is wait for time to catch up with my father so that death can take him away. I absolutely hate knowing that. I don't understand why things like this happen. My father is going to soon disappear from this world to who-knows-where and all I can do is just wait. How could this have happened? None of this could be real. I still didn't want to believe that this was all real. A part of me just doesn't want to accept that. That this is the end of things and that no matter what I do—if I do anything for that matter—that it would have no effect on what will happen in four weeks. What I do will affect nothing.

Is there any point anymore? I'm not sure what to do. What I can do. What I _should_ do.

I still feel it. The nauseating, dizzying, paralyzing, infuriating feeling inside of me that I can't shake off. I can't get rid of it. I don't know how.

Pain. The things that it does to you.


	2. The Drizzle Before the Storm

_**The Light of My Life**_

 _ **Chapter 2—The Drizzle Before the Storm**_

A/N: Apologies for the previous depressing chapter. Things will definitely lighten up, I swear. Haha, sorry. If you don't know already, I'm one of those very mean authors that like to make their characters (and maybe readers) very miserable, but for certain reasons of course. ;) Oh, and before you get on with the story, I actually got a Tumblr recently so feel free to follow, ask, etc. in addition to this site! The link to my blog is on my profile. :)

* * *

It's like everything is collapsing around me. My whole world is closing in. It feels claustrophobic.

Or so that's what it feels like.

I shut the door of my father's hospital room quietly to avoid disturbing him in his sleep. As I do so, I cross my arms as I limply walk through the hallways, trying to tune out the sounds of the other doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors. I only hear the steps of my feet as I pass through.

I sigh a relief when I reach the elevator, seeing as it's empty and pressing the button to get back down to the hospital lobby. Soft elevator music plays as I descend floor by floor to the lobby. In the reflection of the doors, I see myself frazzled looking as ever: puffy red eyes, untidy hair, heavy breathing. Thankfully, the elevator doesn't stop to let in other guests.

All I could want right now is to go home. As much as I want to stay with my dad in the hospital all the time, I also need some time to just be by myself.

Once the elevator doors _ding_ open, I know Austin is waiting for me in the lobby. Despite me telling him earlier that it was okay to go home, he wouldn't budge. I guess I appreciated the fact, but he didn't have to stay. But now that I think about it, having him drive me home would be a lot better than calling a taxi. With him, sometimes I don't have to say a word. He just knows.

I see Austin rise from his seat when he sees me enter the lobby. There's a look of concern on his face and there's a bit of worry in his step as he walks toward me.

Immediately, I wrap my arms around him and vice versa. I don't know why, but any time that he hugs me it gives me comfort even in a situation like this. I always feel just a little better, even if it's just a little.

He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it. Austin just nods, already knowing that we could talk sometime later. Right now, I just want to go home.

Outside when we're walking to his red Ferrari, I notice that it's a little cloudy. It's not so cloudy that it gives off a gloomy mood, but there a few clouds that cover the sun from fully shining. Austin opens up the front passenger door for me, and I get in.

We begin to drive away from the hospital so that he can take me home. Every time I leave the hospital, though, I get this sick feeling inside that makes me anxious of the fact of how Dad will be the next time I visit him. I know the doctor said he has four weeks, but I still can't help but just wonder of how something could go wrong. Is it wrong for me to worry this much? Am I dwelling too much on this true pain I have?

The car ride is silent. It's a weird sort of comfortable silent, however. As Austin is driving, I look out the window, noticing my reflection in the side mirror. I don't appear as drained as I did when I looked at myself in the hospital elevator, but I still feel shattered on the inside. It's all just been so much.

" _Thanks for shopping at Sonic Boom!" Austin gazed over at me and smiled. I was able to tell easily that he was exhausted after a busy day of work. Seriously, the boy works here at Sonic Boom, at Moon Mattress Kingdom, and still makes time to go to school. I don't know how he does it._

 _Austin took a deep breath and came to sit next to me. "Man, I'm beat," he said._

" _I can tell." Up close I was able to see the bags under his eyes and an odd paleness in his skin, but still he kept his head up and grinned like nothing was wrong. "You need anything?"_

" _I'm okay. Want to go grab some ice cream?"_

" _Boardwalk ice cream?" I asked with a smile. The ice cream that was sold at the nearby boardwalk was the absolute best. And that included their fruity mint swirl ice cream, too._

" _Boardwalk ice cream," Austin replied with a grin._

 _I got up from where I was standing, with my fists half raised in the air. "Okay, now I'm excited."_

 _Austin laughed at that. "All right, all right, just let me finish up closing up shop first."_

" _Oh, okay! Let me help you!" I had no idea what had suddenly gotten into me. I rushed to start putting some of the extra inventory away behind the counter while Austin began to lock up._

 _It wasn't too long before I finished cleaning up the majority of the shop with Austin helping here and there. It was odd to think that I didn't work at Sonic Boom and now Austin knew the entire store's inventory like I once did._

" _Okay, we're done!" I exclaimed at the blonde. "Come on, Austin, let's go!" No, I seriously had no idea what had gotten into me. I didn't think that the mere thought of boardwalk ice cream would get me so hyped up._

 _Unfortunately, Austin yelled back, "Ally, wait! Let me change out of this first!"_

 _I sighed. "Okay, okay, fine, fine. Maybe I'm a little too excited..."_

 _He gave me a look, raising an eyebrow. "Ya think?"_

 _I brushed off his comment, shoving him playfully toward the office where his stuff was located. "Just go change out of uniform."_

 _Austin smiled at me as he went to go retrieve his change of clothes. I really had to give him props for doing his best at work and at school. He'd told me about how things went down with his former music career. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he missed performing, but with everything he'd been busy with, I wasn't really sure if he still dwelled on the absence of music in his life._

"Hey, Ally?" Austin calls out in the middle of my thoughts.

I look beside me, seeing a neutral expression on his face. "Yeah?"

"We're, uh, here," gesturing to the house in front of us. Right. My house.

"Oh. Yeah." I nodded to him, opening up the car door. "Thanks."

I begin to step out of the car, but pause. And then I step back into the car, staring at my feet. He doesn't say anything until I do.

"Austin?"

"Yeah, Ally?"

I bite my lip before saying, "Do you want to come in for a little bit?" I must be crazy. Just earlier I wanted to be by myself at home. Now that I'm at home, I don't want to be alone. I want someone with me.

But still he gives me a small grin. "Okay."

That's when it begins to rain. One little drop turns into many, but we waste no time to get inside in order to avoid getting soaked.

Once we're inside, I ask him, "Do you want anything? Snacks? Drinks?"

Simply, Austin shakes his head. "No thanks, I'm good."

We plop ourselves on the couch, and a newfound silence rises in the atmosphere. I don't know how long we end up sitting there for, but it seems to last ages.

" _Here you go, milady," Austin hands me the cup of boardwalk ice cream. "Fruity mint swirl, the usual."_

" _Thanks," I mumble as I nearly shove a spoonful of the frozen goodness into my mouth. "I still can't believe you remembered my favorite flavor after all this time."_

 _Austin licked his lips as he ate his cookie dough boardwalk ice cream, which was his favorite flavor. "How could I forget? Every time we went out for ice cream, you'd yell out 'Fruity mint swirl!'"_

 _I laughed at that, knowing how true that was. "It's not as loud as you shouting 'Pancakes, pancakes!' when we go get breakfast though. How do you have that much energy in the morning? I'm the one that's a morning person and I don't even get that excited most of the time."_

" _Maybe not pancakes because I am the Pancake King after all." I chuckled. "But you are always excited in the mornings! You walked into Sonic Boom one day and got all jumpy about our new bar chimes."_

" _I think I have every right to be excited about prettier sounding bar chimes."_

" _What, they didn't sound pretty before?"_

" _That's not what I said!" I nudged his arm lightheartedly._

 _Austin mocked my voice, "That's not what I said," in the best high pitched voice he could, but to every failing bid._

" _Hey!"_

" _Hey!" He mocked again._

" _I do not talk like that, come on!"_

 _And again, "I do not talk like that, come on!"_

 _I sighed._

 _He tried to sigh in the same way._

" _You are absolutely ridiculous."_

" _You are absolutely ridiculous."_

" _Austin, come on."_

" _Ally, come on." And then he made the effort to start twirling his fingers around in his blonde hair._

 _I rolled my eyes at him, before feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket, answering it without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?" I answered._

" _Miss Dawson? It's Doctor Grant. I'm calling about your father, Lester Dawson."_

 _And just like that, my stomach sank lower than I ever thought it could, the cheerful mood crumbling to pieces._

I decide to finally break the silence. "Austin?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Thanks." I look at him appreciatively, but he gives me a confused look back.

"For what?" He asks.

"For...staying here. Taking me to the hospital. Taking me home."

He nods sympathetically. "It's what I'm here for." He puts a hand on my knee in an attempt to give me more comfort. "Are you going to be okay by yourself here? You're welcome at my place anytime."

I nod. "Yeah. I want to stay here. But just in case—"

"Just call me, okay?"

"Okay."

Austin checks the time on his phone, saying, "Hey, I got to get going. I'll see you tomorrow at the store?"

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow."

He waves a quick goodbye as he heads outside to his car where it's still raining. It isn't much, just a drizzle. I prop my elbow up on the couch with the side of my head resting in my hand, staring out at the front lawn of the house.

Little drops of rain continue to drip down the glass window, watching several of them "race" against each other down until they reach the bottom at the sill. In a way, it feels serene. And for a moment, I do feel serene. The drops of rain plopping down on the window and all around the other windows in Miami. All of these rain drops racing down to the bottoms of sills on the glassy track.

After a while, I get up from the couch and go up to my old room. I've been too lazy to unpack everything since I came to Miami. My luggage sits zipped opened with bunches of folded clothes no longer organized as they were when I left New York. The bed was left unmade with pillows on the floor and the covers are all out of place. Sheets of piano music lay scattered on my desk, numerous amounts of songs jumbled into one mess.

Ignoring the entire mess called my room, I lie on my bed, looking up at the ceiling. Sometimes I wish I had some kind of sky light in my room so that I would always be able to cloud watch while relaxing in bed. That would be nice, wouldn't it?

But unfortunately, not everything that happens is going to be considered nice.

I turn to my side, desiring a need for sleep. I'm not tired more than I was upset, but I do feel that I could just escape everything for a while, even if it would only be for a standard eight hours.

In honesty, all I really want in the world, more than anything, is for everything to be okay. I still feel hurt inside. But I just want to be able to believe everything will be all right. That's all I think about as I fall asleep.


	3. What Forever Glows

_**The Light of My Life**_

 _ **Chapter 3—What Forever Glows**_

* * *

The next day I oversleep, just as I do the day after that. I'm not sure what it is exactly that keeps me from leaving my house for two days in a row. All I know is that I don't. I stay. I don't even bother to visit my dad in the hospital, just like I've always done. There are a billion of missed texts and calls—even a few emails—from Austin because I was too lousy to go see him at work on Sunday. My stomach growls with hunger and my throat aches with thirst, but I don't bother to open the fridge. I'm in my bed nearly the entire time. I must have cried so much that there are no longer any tears to shed.

I'm not sure what it is anymore. Pain? Fear? Anxiety? Those all just feel like words now, words that don't nearly compare to what I feel at all. I feel like I've lost the point of everything in the world.

Sometimes I just feel numb all over. Other times I'm hurting everywhere. Occasionally I feel both. My heart hurts, but my brain is numb or vice versa—if that makes sense even. I don't know what to think anymore.

I still remember when Austin suddenly stepped back in my life when I was still in New York. Back then, I didn't know what to expect out of him. One minute I'm practicing a newly written piece and the next I see _him_.

" _A-Ally," was the first thing Austin said when he saw me. He seemed so...surprised at my appearance, despite the fact that he obviously got Trish and Dez in on this._

 _I just couldn't believe what I was seeing. The Austin Moon? Here? What was he doing here out of all places?_

 _He still looked the same as when I left him. Same hair, same eyes, same face. Just more stressed and exhausted. At first, I didn't know what to make of it. A flood of memories came back to me. Half of them were fun, cheerful memories. The other half of them were miserable, painful memories._

 _Slowly, I had walked up to him still in disbelief, still in awe, still in shock. "It's you. It's really you?"_

" _It's...really me," he said. "Look, Ally, I just want to say that-"_

 _And at the sound of his voice, every last drop and bit of anger that I held against him came spilling out. Just like that. Whenever I looked back at that moment, at what I said, I always somehow felt a twinge of guilt. "You have some nerve coming here, you know."_

 _Confusion, and what I thought was vulnerability maybe, appeared on his face. "W-what? What do you mean?"_

" _I heard what happened."_

" _Heard what happened?"_

" _Hello? Getting released from your record label?! Does that ring a bell?" I had heard about what had happened that very day. The media was quick in getting their news._

" _Oh, yeah, right. That happened..."_

" _Yes, it did happen, Austin." The words just continued to come out. "What the hell did you do this time?"_

 _There was so much hate that I spat out at him, now that I reflected back on it. So much hate. Everything that was bottled up for the last three years finally burst open and I couldn't stop it from seeping all over._

" _Oh, that's right. I heard why it happened too. Late night clubbing? Don't even get me started on your ex-girlfriend."_

 _He was speechless. Not a single word out of him then._

" _And don't tell me you're here to..."_

" _To...what?" He asked softly._

" _If you think that you can come to New York all the way to Juilliard and say, I'm sorry, just so I can be your songwriter and best friend again, then you're wrong."_

I always look back on that conversation thinking how cruel and vile I must have sounded to him, especially now that I have forgiven him and we're hanging out again. All he wanted then was the chance to apologize because he had finally realized what was wrong after all this time. I had refused to give him that chance. I refused to forgive him for all the hurtful things he had said and done to me.

The moment I decided to open up to him, I realized that I was then wrong for not giving him that one last chance. I didn't see that he had finally changed who he was into an even better Austin Moon, better than the one I knew before the fight.

However, sometimes I can't help but make the connection that the time Austin came back was also around the time that I found out about my dad's cancer... Technically there possibly couldn't be any correlation, but just the thought of it—

It had to be just a coincidence, right? My life isn't a book. Things like this must happen for a reason.

"And that is where you're correct about all of this."

That's not my voice...

In panic mode, I suddenly spring up from my position in bed, accidentally banging my back against the headboard. In front of my bed is... Well that's the thing. Who is standing in front of my bed?!

Heavily breathing now, I stutter, "W-w-who are you? How did y-you—? What are you—? What?!" I shake my head, thinking that I'm suddenly hallucinating. That's it. I'm officially going crazy. My dad set up an alarm system for the house. How could it be possible that anyone could get in without setting it off? Especially at—I look at the time on my alarm clock—12:03 AM?

"There is no need to worry, Ally," the person says.

Again, I ask, "Who are you?"

"Hmm, the beginning always seems like the hardest for people."

"Who are you?!" I question more urgently, mentally thinking of something to grab hold of in case of an attack.

"The Angel of Hope, of course, Ally."

For a moment, there's a pause. And for some reason in that pause, I feel more...calm? My mind is immediately taken off _panic mode_ , and my breathing begins to slow, returning to normal.

"H-how did you do that?" I don't know what the correlation is, but somehow what she—whoever this is—has just said, has somehow put me more at peace.

She says, "I am your Angel of Hope. It's what I bring to you in times of need. I bring you hope and peace."

Some part of me wants to actually believe this person. The other part of me wants to believe that this is just some sick joke and that just in a minute, I'll be laughed at for it.

The figure walks closer to me, gently putting a hand on my arm. Instantly, all the possible fear I previously felt goes away. I feel not as numb, not as painful, not hungry, not thirsty.

I feel _normal._

One more time, I say, "Who are you exactly?"

Not exactly answering my question, the person says, "I'm here to help you, Ally. I'm not just the Angel of Hope; I'm _your_ Angel of Hope."

" _My_ Angel of Hope?" I can't process what I'm seeing.

"And if you don't believe me...," the supposed Angel says. Then, she somehow magically sprouts—no, not sprout; that's not the right word—wings. Wings just appear on her back. White, soft-looking wings, as if they're the fluffiest things to ever be in existence. They begin to flap slowly and the supposed Angel levitates from the floor, slowly, but she remains hovering a few inches from the carpeted floor.

I can tell that she senses my shock. It's like she can read my mind. "Do you believe me now?"

Hesitant at first, I nod. For the first time since I've seen her in the room, I'm actually able to look at her. In all honesty, she is beautiful. She has dark, soft skin; brown eyes; silky-like black hair; a soft spoken voice despite my own tone; and is cloaked in a purely white robe.

And somehow, every part of me believes her, believes that this Angel of Hope is real. I don't know how, but she just is. It's not just because of the wings; I just have this feeling that it's real. Her presence practically lights up the dark atmosphere that was just here.

"So, you're my Angel of Hope?"

"I am."

"And you're here to help me?"

"I am," she repeats.

Then, I ask one more question to confirm that this is actually happening. "To help me with what exactly?"

"I'm here to help comfort you about the situation concerning your father."

I nod again, just about fully convinced this time. "Okay. You're an angel."

"Yes. And, if there is one thing that I need to tell you about everything that is happening in your life, Ally, it's to have hope. Always have hope."

I don't say anything for a second.

"Things may seem bad with your father right now, but eventually everything will be at peace."

"How do you know?" I can't help but ask.

"Just trust me, dear. You have to hope that things will get better. And..."

"And what?"

"I don't have much time to spend with you tonight, Ally, but don't forget about Austin, okay?"

"Right, Austin," I say, instantly feeling another twinge of guilt. "I-I left him all alone at the store the other day."

"He's very worried about you. He's come very far and has grown into a very kind man, you know."

"I know," I agreed.

"Do not blame Austin as the cause of your father's illness. He had no idea."

I repeat, "I know."

"Because just like me, he's here to help you, too. In fact, he's waiting for you to answer the door."

"Wait, what?" Austin is here?

"I'm afraid my time for tonight is up. Wake up, Ally. He's waiting for you."

I don't have time to ask questions. My Angel of Hope just vanishes out of thin air. All I'm left with now is the sound of a doorbell as I open up my eyes, lifting up my head from my bed. Instantaneously, I hop out of bed, not caring about the heap of covers I fling onto the floor, and rush to the door, somehow already knowing who is waiting on the other side of it.


	4. Five Twenty-Seven

_**The Light of My Life**_

 _ **Chapter 4—Five Twenty-Seven**_

* * *

Once I get to the door, I stop, my hand frozen on the door knob. Is it really Austin? Can it? Maybe I just dreamt of the door bell ringing. That could totally be it.

I don't know what I'm feeling now, whether it's fear or anxiety, but it's something. Taking a deep breath, I twist the door knob and swing the door open.

It is. It's him. The Angel was right.

"Ally," Austin says. "Hi."

He appears surprised. I think that's the word. There's this look of concern etched on his face, and he's got his hands tucked into the pockets of blue jeans, and his hair is as messy as always, and he's wearing a chained gold guitar pick around his neck over a V-neck t-shirt. For just a moment, he looks like...the old Austin. The Austin from three years ago.

I nearly gasp at his appearance as he still waits for a response from me, only listening to my silence. He just waits. He doesn't gesture for me to begin to speak; he just waits until I want to talk.

And that's when I realize that after two days, I've _missed_ him. After two days of not seeing him, I miss him. He's standing right in front of me, but I miss him. I miss the old him I knew as a teenager, I miss the new him I've gotten to know just recently.

What catches him off guard is when I throw my arms around him and bury my head into his chest. I'm sure that I've startled him, but he only replies by gently putting his arms around me.

We stand there for who knows how long. Momentarily, I feel safe in his embrace, like just for a while nothing could hurt me.

After some time, I'm the first to unravel my arms and he follows. I look at him for a moment, and I see he still has the same look of concern from earlier.

"Come in," is the first thing I say, stepping aside. He does so.

The house is still dark, but the sun's beginning to rise, lighting up the environment little by little. We sit on the couch in the living room, and he turns to me.

"I wanted to come by," Austin says. "To see if you were, um, okay, I mean."

"I'm fine," I tell him. "But thanks."

"Oh. That's good."

Right after I say that, I know immediately that that's a lie. _Fine?_ I'm _fine?_ How could I possibly be fine at a time like this?

I've been so down lately that it sometimes gets to the point where I don't feel anything. There have been a few ups recently, but it somehow ends up declining, like heading down a hill. There's a long silence between us, but this time it's less comforting. It's almost awkward.

I notice that he's looking at me, as if I'm to say something. He doesn't speak a word, doesn't get up to leave, or anything, again. His hazel eyes gleam, thinking, wondering, pondering. I've missed that part of him, too. His eyes. They nearly seem to glow in the dark room, like an angel's eyes would.

Then, I remember, _"...he's here to help you..."_ That's what the Angel said, isn't it? Austin is here to help me. Of course he is, he wanted to see if I'm okay.

But the thing is that I'm not. I'm still not. After everything that's happened, pain and comfort and all, I'm still not _fine_.

When I talk, I hesitate at first, not sure how to put things into words. "Um...," I try. "I'm not," is what comes out of my mouth.

"You're not...what?" He lifts an eyebrow.

"Fine. I'm not fine. I'm sorry."

Austin puts a hand on top of my knee, rubbing it. "There's nothing to be sorry about. It'll be all right."

"You seem so positive about all this," I can't help but note. "How are you so calm?"

"I just hope that everything should turn out the way it should, that in the end, it turns out...all right." He pauses. "I did with you."

"You did?"

"Of course, I did. Whether you wounded up back in my life or not—which you did—I hoped that everything was going to be all right for you."

"It doesn't seem that way right now..."

Austin shrugs. "You can't have a rainbow without rain, can you?"

"I guess not," I admit.

"Come on," Austin continues, getting up from the couch and holding out his hand. "Let's do something somewhere. Anything anywhere. You and me."

"But it's Monday."

"Yeah. So?"

"Don't you have class today?"

"Not today." He grinned mischievously. "Professor emailed that he was sick. All of my homework's done so I am totally free for today."

I'm still thinking about it when he says, "We can go anywhere you want. Café, library, mall, beach...Sonic Boom?"

I've made up my mind, finally standing up. I entwine my fingers into his. "Yeah."

He furrows his eyebrows. "Yeah to where?"

"Everywhere." Maybe the Angel is right. If Austin is here to help, then it would be anything but wrong for me to accept it, right? "Let's go everywhere today."

"Sounds good to me." There's another gleam in his eyes and that smile to go along with it. "I don't think much is open this early in the morning, but I'm sure the café is?"

"You had this all planned out, didn't you?"

He shrugs again. "It's 5:27 AM. New day. You never know what could happen."

* * *

It turns out that Austin really did have everything planned out. Either that or he just happens to have all of this stuff coincidentally in the back of his car.

We arrive at a local café that's actually part café and part library and bookstore. We're the only customers in the place, but it's not like either of us mind. There's a certain aroma to the café; it's an interesting mix of fresh hot coffee and the pages of new and old novels. It's surprisingly relaxing.

"Take a look around," Austin says. "It's a nice place."

"You come here often?" I ask.

"All the time," he says. "I'll go get breakfast and coffee. Want anything specific?"

I wave a hand off. "Well, what's good here?"

"Everything." He smirks.

"I'll take whatever you like."

"Then prepare for a major load of fluffy, mini pancakes topped with warm butter, maple syrup, sliced strawberries, and whip cream, with a side of crispy bacon."

For a second, I look at him in awe. "That is really specific."

"I get it every time I come here."

I roll my eyes playfully as he goes to order and I check out the rest of the café.

There are numerous amounts of shelves filled with all sorts of literature. Classic and modern. Action and adventure. Thoughtful and laid back. Novels and comic books. Old and new. Paperback and hardcover. The categories can go on and on and on.

I've read so many books in my life that I forget that there are hundreds, thousands, and millions more stories out there to read and learn about. There's just so much to know. I randomly pick a book out of the shelf in front of me. It's titled _The Road_ by Cormac McCarthy.

I've heard about this book. It's known for having purposeful grammar errors in its ongoing-no-chapter format in a post-apocalyptic time period.

It's about...hope. How in the worst of times people keep going no matter how dark and dreadful the circumstances may seem. Because somewhere there's always a light that shines hope. Because somehow people believe that things will always get better.

Whether they do or not by the end of the novel for the characters, I'm not really sure. But I hope so. I take it back with me and bring it to a table where I see Austin setting down two plates of pancakes and bacon and two cups of coffee.

"Hey," he says. "Got a book?"

"Yup. _The Road_."

"Really? Cormac McCarthy?"

"You've read it?"

"It's the first book I picked out here." Austin then gestures to the food. "Bon appétit."

The meal is delicious. It's honestly one of the best I've had in a while. I suppose a stack of pancakes aren't so bad once in a while. Or in Austin's case, just about every day.

"So, you've read _The Road._ How is it?" I question the blonde, though I probably already know the answer.

"It's really good. Classic story about never ending hordes of zombies, flaming meteors, and letters from England saying how the characters are really wizards."

I give him a look. "Nice try."

"What?" He lets out a chuckle. "You think I'm not serious?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

He rolls his eyes at me. "I meant what I said. That it's really good. Just read it for yourself. You'll see how it is."

"Fine," I sigh. Then, "So where to next?"

"That depends. I believe it's the mall. But where do you want to go?"

"The mall," I answer instantly.

"Well, all right then."

After breakfast, Austin and I spend time at the Miami mall. Neither of us buys anything or is looking for anything in particular. Instead, we have mini photoshoots with different sunglasses, hats, and leather jackets at different clothing stores in the most ridiculous poses possible.

Austin's offered to buy me anything that I've tried on, but I always insist that he doesn't have to. I probably have enough accessories and clothes as it is. Instead, I offer the same to him, to buy him anything that he's tried on. However, his reaction is the same as mine. Not that purchasing anything is really necessary; I think that just maybe, we already have everything we need. For now, at least.

Maybe I'll get that pair of sunglasses I saw in that one store...

I don't know how long we're at the mall, but it's well into the late afternoon by the time we're done. We must have gone into nearly every shop in the mall.

Then, we only drive by the beach, deciding that we could stay in the sand another time, even though Austin already has beach blankets, lawn chairs, and umbrellas stored in the trunk of his car.

The view from the passenger seat is beautiful. We drive around for a while, with no particular destination. We're just driving. But from all around, I'm able to always see the way the sun's light comes through the leaves of the palm trees, bringing light to the shadows on the sand. The waves continuously crash on the shore, occasionally knocking down sand castles that are built up again, only farther away from the water. They're always knocked down, but are always built again, always further and further away from the ruthless waves of the deep, blue sea.

Stopping at the parking lot near the Miami Beach, Austin turns off the car. He says, "So I wanted to ask you something."

"Uh huh?"

"I know I said that we could go to Sonic Boom sometime, but I wanted to know if you needed to go somewhere else before we do."

"Where would that be?" I ask.

Austin pauses for a moment. "The hospital?"

"Oh," I let out. "The hospital..."

"Yeah, I was just thinking that considering it's been a couple of days since you've seen your dad, so I thought...," his voice trails off silently, unsure of what I might say.

"You thought that I would want to go see him?"

"Yeah." Austin nods. "We can go to Sonic Boom some other time. I figured the hospital would be a lot more important to you is all."

I tell him, "Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Let's go to the hospital." Compared to how I was this morning or the past few days, my voice seems more confident now, even if just by a little bit.

He nods again. "Okay. Whatever you say."

"Could you come with me this time, though? To his room, I mean?"

"I thought it was for family only."

I place a hand over his. "You're considered family to me."

Austin smiles and again, his eyes gleam at me. "All right. The hospital it is."

* * *

A/N: Just wanted to say _The Road_ by Cormac McCarthy is actually a really good book. I'm not done with it yet, and it's partially for a summer reading assignment, but it's definitely one to consider reading. Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter!


	5. Time Is Just A Number

_**The Light of My Life**_

 _ **Chapter 5—Time Is Just A Number**_

* * *

Every day I spend for the next two weeks is always comforting than the day before. For a while, I feel a lot more content with myself.

I always make sure to visit my dad each day with Austin coming along, too. Most of the time, he doesn't say anything while we're in my dad's hospital room. And sometimes I don't say anything either. He's asleep half of the time we're actually there. But there are other times when he's actually awake and he's able to see the two of us.

I would always sit and grab his hand, grinning at him, and he grins back. The television is usually playing in the background, but other than that it's typically silent in the room. Then there are times when we make small talk between the three of us. He asks how business with Sonic Boom is or how school is for Austin, and we ask if there's been a certain show he's taken a liking to watching or maybe some cute nurse that's been taking care of him.

But through all of this I can't help but notice how much more sickly and pale he gets with each passing day. The grasp of his hand becomes weaker and his voice becomes quieter. I know that he's just glad I'm here to see him every day, despite everything that he's going through.

Then I remember one day when he innocently asked, "So, are you two back together?"

Austin and I looked at each other, not sure how to respond to his question at first. I suppose Austin always holding my hand when we're in the room is a bit of a misleading sign. The both of us knew that even if we wanted to be in a relationship that now wasn't really the best of times to get into it.

So I answered, "No. We're not together."

And Austin added, "Not right now at least." He gave me a small smile.

I had to admit in that moment, I was questioning a potential relationship with Austin, and if he thought about it, too. He was always here for me whenever we went to the hospital and I was always waiting for him after school or work. He was willing to do anything with me as long as I felt comfortable with it.

I guess I really couldn't blame my dad for popping the question.

"Well, whatever happens," my dad said. "I'll be happy for you both."

* * *

As usual on Wednesday, I wait for Austin to finish up work at the Moon Mattress Kingdom. I stand outside of the doors, watching him through the glass windows. He's in his ordinary yellow shirt and beige khakis, talking to one of the customers. The two then begin to walk towards the main office where I assume final purchase details are being settled. Austin looks to the entrance and smiles as soon as he sees me. He mouths, "Almost done." And I nod.

In between visiting my dad and hanging out with Austin, I've been wanting to tell him how I began to pick up my songwriting again. After organizing a mess of scattered music sheets on my desk, I got the inspiration to write a few new songs. They still need some work, but for the most part I think I had truly outdone myself on these. I couldn't wait to show them to Austin. I even managed to write a song with an old acoustic guitar, something that I hadn't tried before. I was so used to writing with my piano or keyboard.

And it occurred to me that maybe, hopefully, as busy as Austin could be, that we could write songs together again. Considering his schedule, I don't think it would be set as an official partnership like it was when we were in high school, but just for fun, I'd say. We could visit the old practice room and play with the old baby grand piano. I remember how much we used to have just playing some of our old songs, even. I miss those times most.

The door then opens, and Austin says, "Hey, Ally." I notice he changed from his work clothes and into something more casual.

We begin to walk away from the store and into the Mall of Miami. He asks, "So, what do you want to do today? Anything in mind?"

"Actually...," I say. "Let's go to Sonic Boom. There's something I want to show you."

"And...what is it that you want to show me there?" He raises an eyebrow.

I wave a hand off. "Just come. You'll see, okay?"

He shrugs playfully. "If you say so."

On the way to the store, Austin tells me about the customers he's had to deal with recently, saying how some people are indecisive about the kind of mattress they want. He claims that I wouldn't know what working in a mattress store is like unless I've worked in a mattress store. Having to hear and sometimes list the differences between regular beds and water beds or between bunk beds and single-sized beds. Apparently there isn't no hassle in the castle after all.

However, I beg to differ when working at a music store, with having to listen to customers try to pick out the differences between violins and violas or between trumpets and cornets.

I guess Austin has it a little easier working at Sonic Boom. Lucky him.

We're nearing Sonic Boom when I turn my head to see something. Candles.

And I don't mean just ordinary candles set up at the store. By the entrance of the sports equipment store—All For Athletes—there's an arrangement of colorful candles and flowers propped up by the glass doors.

"Hey, Austin," I stop the blonde. "What's going on over there?"

Austin looks to where I point at, and for a moment his face goes pale, but colors returns soon after when he faces me. "It's a memorial. For the owner."

"Did something...," my voice drops. "Oh. Right. Of course."

"You okay?"

I take a deep breath, instantly knowing why Austin's face had gone pale in the first place. "Yeah. I'm okay.

"You still want to head over to Sonic Boom? Or later?"

"Um," is all I could say at first. Then, "Yeah. No. I mean...let's go to Sonic Boom."

Austin nods. "Okay."

When we do finally get to Sonic Boom, Austin bids a "Hello" to the person working behind the counter. I think that I'm just about ready to show Austin the songs I've written; he puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Ally, I want to introduce you to someone," he says, then gestures to the person behind the counter.

The person smiles at me. "Hey. The name's Zoey." The girl holds out a hand for me to shake, and I take it.

Though, almost immediately I know who the girl is, or was, to Austin. She was...his girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. But what's she doing working here?

"Nice to meet you," I say anyway.

"Wow," she continues. "You're _the_ Ally Dawson. She's a keeper, Austin."

Austin chuckles nervously, and gives her a knowing look, but says, "Yeah. She is."

Zoey eyeing the two of us then switches the topic. "So, uh, thanks for getting me this job, Austin."

"Of course," Austin replies. "It wasn't a problem, really. Our other guy just quit anyway."

"Well I'm happy to be in with the business." The two share a grin.

I bit my lip, and intervene, "Okay, um, Zoey, it was really nice meeting you, but Austin and I have some business to do up in the practice room. Right, Austin?"

Austin nods. "Yeah, I guess we do. I'll see you at work in a couple days, okay?"

"Aye, aye, Captain." She salutes, and of course, the blonde salutes back.

Up in the practice room, I make sure to shut the door. And looking around, I see almost none of it has changed. However, part of it has become room for extra storage. But overall, everything is just about the same. The same lit up "A" on the wall, the polished piano, the glass windows, everything.

Austin's already at the piano, smiling at the keys as if he's just there to admire them. I haven't even told him why we're here yet.

"You wrote a song," he says, as if reading my mind.

I raise an eyebrow. "You already knew?"

"Why else would we be here?"

Sitting down on the piano bench next to him, I gently place my hands on the black and white keys, ready to play. But then I stop, and take my hands away.

To Austin I say, "So, downstairs...that's her, right? Zoey?"

"What about her? She's nice, isn't she?"

"Yeah. But I mean, she's your...ex-girlfriend."

Austin bites his lip. "Oh. She is. Why do you ask?"

I shrug. "Just making sure."

"Uh huh."

"Really."

"Is that all?"

"Definitely."

"Are you sure?"

"Yup."

"Do you like her?"

"Of course!"

"You really think she's nice?"

"Why not?"

"Then did you know she has a boyfriend?"

I look at him. "Wait, what?" Boyfriend? She has a boyfriend? Then what is she doing—?

"Relax." Austin puts a hand on my shoulder. "We're just friends and the only time I've been seeing her lately is at work."

I'm silent for a minute. "That's it?"

"Yes, ma'am. So will you play your new song now?"

"Three actually."

"Three?"

"Yeah. I have three new songs."

"Hmm. Impressive," he admits.

Clearing my voice, I begin with the first of the three, "There you are standing with all your friends, so I wait 'till you're alone again. And the minutes feel like eternity..."

* * *

After we're done in the practice room, Austin and I are off to the hospital again. It's the same routine every day, but he never seems to mind. My dad and Austin as far as I have known, never had much of a relationship to begin with, and they only knew each other because of me. Yet, here's Austin, always able to come along with me to visit my dad.

We sit in the two chairs provided for us next to my dad's bed. And just like always, I'm holding on to my dad's hand with my right for comfort while Austin grasps for my left hand in order to do the same.

These two guys make me happy. But sooner or later, one of them is going to be gone forever. I've lived without Austin for three years, and even before we met in the beginning, that number was fifteen. But living without my dad...already living without my mom—even though we video chat and make phone calls and send emails every now and then—is lonely. Just the impending thought of having an even lonelier house, which I already have been residing in by myself for a while, seems nearly unbearable.

I've walked into this hospital day after day and at times, I've discovered there are two types of people who leave it.

There are people who walk out with a cast or in some sort of condition or maybe completely healthy and sometimes they're with loved ones walking out with them right by their side. And everything's going to be absolutely okay.

But then there are also people who walk out in tears, or with their heads laying low, or just quietly, trying to pass by without making a single sound. The ones who walk out without a cured and healthy loved one beside them.

I can't help but think that that's going to be me soon. I don't even remember when anymore, I just know that it's going to be soon, that the doctors can do nothing about it. It's just coming soon. I'm going to be walking away from this building with my head laying low and with salty tears coming from my eyes and attempting to just get home as soon as possible.

That's it. I know how it's all going to end and that will be it.

Right?

"Not quite," someone says.

I turn my head to the door, thinking that a doctor or nurse has snuck in to the room. But the door is closed. No one is here. I look at Austin and to my dad and nothing has changed. Then, I notice something.

There's no noise. Nothing. I don't hear anything.

That's when I notice the heart monitor and I realize that the line on the screen has stopped moving, stopped beeping. It's like it's frozen.

"Turn around, Ally," the voice says again.

I do what it says, and find myself looking at a white figure.

The Angel of Hope.

* * *

A/N: Kudos to you if you know the song Ally was beginning to sing in the practice room. And if you don't know, well...look up R5's Do It Again on YouTube. Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter! Also, fair warning: school for me is starting soon, so when that comes around, updates will probably be less frequent (not that they weren't really frequent before), but I thought y'all should know! Oh, and the other two songs will be revealed later on just in case you were wondering. ;)


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